


The Corruption of Peter Petrelli

by Sylar (FanficbyLee)



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Episode: s04e18 The Wall, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-10
Updated: 2012-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-05 02:34:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/401499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanficbyLee/pseuds/Sylar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After escaping to the Brave New World, Peter and Sylar have a lot to adjust to. The Petrellis are not happy that Sylar and Peter are lovers, and Sylar if afraid that Peter will die on him since he doesn't have unlimited powers anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

We’d been free for a few weeks. Peter and I had avoided the outside world as much as possible since escaping Parkman’s prison. But Peter had gone back to work since the Boy Scout needed to play hero in any way that he could. I love him, but I don’t get it. I just don’t. Sure I jumped in to help save the world, but that didn’t mean I was going to start rescuing kittens from trees. 

On the other hand, I stayed to myself. I was used to being a shadow. For someone who wanted to be as special as I did, it’s funny how much I preferred stalking in the darkness, and I was still stalking. I tried to be good. I tried for Peter, but it came back. The hunger, the need for more, always wins. And thanks to Claire outing specials to the world, it was a hell of a lot easier to hunt. There was always some asshole showing off his special powers on TV. 

I’d boot up my laptop, and there they’d be. Billy Bob, who could shoot fire from his fingertips, in the Ozarks, or Mary Sue, who could make people fall in love with her, in Butt Fuck, Alaska. All the little people from the sticks trying to get attention to show off how wonderful they were, it made me sick. It also made me hungry. I am a predator. I am the only predator for my kind, and I owed it to the survival of our newly evolving species to kill off the weak and stupid. I told Chandra in the beginning it was an evolutionary imperative, and I was right. 

With Peter being broken, it wasn’t as if he could come home at night and pick up any new powers I had by accident. He could only take one at a time, and most of the time I made him take regeneration. He was doing a dangerous job as a paramedic, not as dangerous as a firefighter, but still bad. All of my hope, what little humanity I had was wrapped up in Peter, and if he died, I’d be nothing but the monster. 

As I scrubbed the blood out from under my fingernails, I looked at my reflection the mirror and sighed. I had the lean hungry look in my eyes, and any trace of befuddled innocence I’d gained behind the Wall was gone. It was only a matter of time before Peter found out what I was doing. He’d leave me. I’d broken my promise to him, and I knew he’d never understand that I had no choice. 

Playing the mouse was getting old. I wanted to have fun with him. I wanted to be the real me, and I wanted him to like me then too. He liked Gabriel or whoever I’d been when we were trapped, but it was impossible for me to continue like that. It didn’t matter that I loved Peter either and I wished to hell that it did. 

I heard the front door open. I didn’t bother to lock it. It wasn’t as if I couldn’t rip apart anyone who tried to break in. By the time I was done in the bathroom, I found Peter face down on the couch with one hand dragging on the floor. I finished tugging on a clean t-shirt and sat down on the edge of the sofa near his legs. 

“Nice view. Rough day?” I asked him as I admired how nicely his jeans fit. The edge of his shirt had pulled up out of the waistband of his jeans, and I couldn’t resist the urge to trail my fingertips over the naked spot. Peter twitched and chuckled, looking back at me through his hair.

“Yeah, I’ve got to stop saying ‘yes’ when they ask me to do a double.” He shifted and rolled onto his side, giving me more room, so I could bend over him and capture his mouth in a kiss. He tasted like toothpaste and smelled like soap. Apparently we’d both taken the time to get cleaned up before he came home. 

“I’d appreciate it,” I murmured as I brushed the tip of my nose along the shell of his ear before biting the tip of it. “I miss you when you’re gone so long.” 

That was the truth. I did miss him even if it did give me time to give into my darker urges. Working made Peter happy, and I wanted him happy. I also wanted him near me twenty-four hours a day, but that wasn’t feasible. We were free now. I didn’t need him to be my only company even if he was my preferred company. Something had to change though. Peter’s not stupid. He’s not the naïve pain in the ass that he was when we first met. He was an adult now, and he would figure out that I was hunting sooner rather than later. 

He hooked his fingers into my hair and pulled, so he could have another kiss. His tongue ran over the back of my teeth, and I shivered when he found the ticklish spot at the roof of my mouth. His free hand slipped under my shirt to drag short nails over my stomach. 

“So, I’m guessing you want to be sent to bed without dinner?” I teased as I pushed him onto his back and stretched out on top of him. “I shouldn’t have bothered to get dressed.” 

“We can eat later, Sylar.” I tugged my shirt off over my head, and I growled against his shoulder as I bit along his collarbone. 

“Do you still have regen, Peter?” I had to know before I got carried away. Killing made me horny, and I was thrilled that he was in the mood. Although being a Petrelli, it didn’t take much effort to put him in the mood. Nathan had been just as bad, and I should know after that little trip to Hell thanks to his mother. 

“Yeah, still got regen.” I could feel the frustration beneath his need to be with me. Peter missed having more than one power at a time. He missed being powerful. I’d tried to find a way to fix him, but so far nothing had worked. Arthur had fucked him up bad. 

“Good, then I don’t have to hold back.” His eyes narrowed as he slipped his hand between us to brush over my cock through the fabric of my pants. I was already hard, and I pressed against his hand. “But not on the couch. Come on.” I untangled from his arms and legs, and reached down to pull him to his feet. “It’s a good thing your bed isn’t very far away, Peter.” 

“Our bed, Sylar,” he reminded me as we took the four steps between the living room and the bedroom. “What’s mine is yours.” 

That’s when the idea struck. I knew that he’d share everything with me. Peter loved me, and I loved him just as much. He was the only person who mattered to me, and I’d share anything with him too. I knew how to fix him. 

He could have all the power he wanted. All he had to do was say ‘yes’. 

To be continued....


	2. 2

Peter was sprawled nearly sideways across the bed when I came back from brushing my teeth. He was on his stomach as usual, and he was snoring softly. I didn’t want to disturb him by moving him, so I could get back under the covers, so I sat down on the edge of the window instead. It was almost dawn. I could see the sky starting to lighten at the horizon. Peter’s apartment didn’t have much of a view, but it was still better than my rat trap back in Brooklyn. Hell the trailer at Sullivan Bros had been better than that place although give me a month or two more, and there would be as many books here as I had before everything went nuts. 

I let out a snort. Who am I kidding? Things didn’t go nuts. I went nuts. I couldn’t handle the hunger or the power that I gave me. When I tried to fight it, it ate my soul, and here I was considering sharing it with Peter. He’d had it before, but he didn’t have it long before Arthur took it away. He told me when we were trapped that he was grateful for that one thing, because he couldn’t handle it. 

But he’s not the same person he was then. He’s grown up. He’s learned so much since then, and I think he could handle it now. He had so many powers when he learned to use it last time, and I’m sure that’s why he lost control. Now he’s got nothing, and I could share with him one at a time with Empathy then. 

Or he could go hunting with me.

That thought makes my mouth water. I would love nothing more than to take Peter on a kill. To be able to share the magical moment when a power clicked on in your brain and to brush blood covered fingers over his face before licking it off. That thought made me hard.

Christ it was a stupid idea. He’d never take it. I’d either lose him for suggesting it, or I’d lose him to the hunger and power. But if I didn’t take the chance, I’d still lose him. He’s going to find out that I’m killing, or if the best case scenario works, he’ll die of old age. I can’t stand the idea of going on without him, and I can’t die. 

Peter’s the only person who knows the real reason that I took regen from Claire. He understands that I did it to make sure that I didn’t die and go to hell. He knows how afraid of that, that I am. He’s the only one who knows that I still believe in god, and I’m terrified of his wrath for what I’ve done. But I’m also so afraid of being alone again. He has to stay with me.

“Sylar?” Peter’s voice is rough from sleep as he shifts in the bed. His hand brushes over the blankets, seeking for my body. “What are you doing over there?” 

“I got up to brush my teeth, and you took over the entire bed.” I smiled over at him as the first rays of the sun came through the window. They were rose colored with the dawn, but they held no warmth. I could be standing in a sauna right now, and I don’t think that would chase the chill from my bones. 

“I’m a horrible bed hog.” He rolled over and made sure that my half of the bed was empty. “Come on, it’s too early to be up. It’s my day off, and I want to curl up with you some more.” 

“As you wish, Peter,” I said as I slipped into the bed. I sighed as he curled his body around mine, and I breathed in his scent. 

***  
A few hours later when I woke up it was Peter’s turn to be out of bed before me. The sun was shining on the mattress, and that was part of what woke me. I was surprised that I’d slept through him getting up, but my brain had finally shut down long enough for me to sleep, which doesn’t happen often. Most of the time I’m lucky if I can get three hours a night, so I spend a lot of time reading and watching Peter sleep. It wasn’t a new thing. I hadn’t been much of a sleeper long before I came into my ability. That’s why my walls were covered in books at my apartment. 

The smell of coffee told me that he hadn’t been up long when I padded barefoot into the small living room. He looked up from his laptop where he was reading the news, or something, when I came out. “I went out and got us fresh bagels from the shop down the street. The coffee’s hot, but I didn’t know when you’d be up to boil water for your tea.” 

“You managed to leave and come back without me waking up?” Now that never happens. I must be adjusting to living in the real world again after all. He might not have had the water on for me, but the kettle was full on the stove. He’d also set up my tea ball, canister of Earl Grey, my mug and the sugar bowl on the counter next to the bagels. It was the little things like that, that made me love him even more. “These smell so good. Thank you, Peter.” 

I had to tell him my idea, but I was afraid. I’d be asking him to become a monster. Christ my life was turning into a bad vampire romance novel. I need Peter with me, and to have him, I need to make him like me. Yep, that’s a cliché if I ever heard of one. My hands were shaking as I poured the hot water into my mug. By a miracle I didn’t spill it or the loose tea leaves when I turned around to put the kettle back. 

“I had an idea last night,” I tell him, quietly as I settle down on the sofa with my breakfast. I’d rather eat at the table, but we don’t have much furniture and he’s using the table with his computer. We should probably look for a bigger apartment. 

“Idea about what?” He asked, turning around in the chair, so he could talk to me without being distracted by his computer. 

“That we should look for a bigger apartment.” Smooth, Sylar, really smooth, and cowardly too. Yes, let’s look for a bigger place, so you have so much more to lose when he says ‘no’ to your idea.

“That’s a good idea, but it’s not the one you’re hiding from me.” He got up and sat down next to me, placing his hand on my knee. “I’ve lived with you long enough to know when you’re evading. I’ve also been raised Petrelli, remember?” 

“I remember.” God knows I wish I could forget that. “I had an idea about how to fix your ability.” 

“Really? That’s great!” He beamed at me, and I watched the lights in his eyes fade as they narrowed. “Great enough that you don’t want to tell me your idea. You can’t fix me, can you?” 

“I don’t think I can, but there is another way, Peter.” I set my mug down and turned to face him. I was trembling all over when I opened my mouth to speak. “I can give you my real ability. Then you can copy the way that I do.”


	3. 3

Time stopped around us. I would have thought that Hiro had popped in if it weren’t for the sound of the ticking clocks. Peter hadn’t said a word. I wasn’t even sure that he’d taken a breath since I offered to make him a monster. The seconds ticked past while he stared at me until he finally looked away, focusing on the coffee cooling in his cup. His hands were shaking slightly as he held onto the cup like it was a lifesaver. 

I waited without saying another word. I didn’t move. I was scarcely breathing while I watched him. I waited for the wall to be rebuilt brick by brick between us. With just a few sentences I’d destroyed all that we’d become, and I was ready for him to throw me out. I bit into my lip until I tasted a hint of blood while I waited for his temper to flare, and him to do something, anything before he told me what a bastard I was. 

“I can’t believe you…” Peter’s voice was almost a growl. The sound of the mug hitting the table made me jump, but he went to the window not the door. That’s a good thing I think. He can’t fly right now. I hope. “I can’t believe you’d ask me that after what happened before.” 

“That was different. You didn’t have time to understand it and learn to control it. You were too busy with your father and that mess. It was chaotic, but it’s not like that now. I could teach you.” What I should do is shut the fuck up before I made it worse. I wanted to get up and follow him. I needed to know that it was going to be all right, but if I walked over to him now, I was more than likely going to get popped in the face. Peter’s fists are fast, and he’s very good at using them. My jaw hurt from the memories. 

“I don’t want you to teach me, Sylar.” He scrubbed at his face with both hands as he sank back to sit on the windowsill. “I went crazy. For fuck’s sake part of the reason that I’ve forgiven you for so much is because I know what it’s like to have that fucking power. You can’t control it all the time. I know that.” 

Icy fingers curled around my heart. Fuck, did he know I was hunting? I’d been so careful, but if he knew he’d never accept the power from me. I didn’t kill in the city if I had a choice. I’d only gone after bad people. It wasn’t like before. A million excuses for why it should be ok flashed through my brain in preparation for my defense when I begged him not to leave me. 

“No, I can’t always control it, but it’s easier than it was before.” I can’t meet his eyes, so I focus on a scrap of blue sky over his shoulder and sigh. “I was alone. I had to learn how to handle it by myself. You wouldn’t be alone. You could copy mine, and then you could copy everything else I have. We’d be partners.” 

“We’re already partners, Sylar!” He moaned and hit the back of his head on the window’s frame with a thump. He must have picked that up from me. That was classic Gabriel, and I had a tendency to still do that when I was frustrated. I always thought it was better than striking out at someone who hurt me. “Yeah, I’d love to be able to collect powers again. I’d love to be able to fly and use telekinesis at the same time, but the cost is too high.” 

“But is it?” I squeezed my eyes shut while I fought the voices in my head. The options and what ifs were cascading around me. What would happen if he said ‘yes’. What would happen if he didn’t, and what would happen if he told me to get out. It’s what drove him mad before. He didn’t know what to do with all the possibilities, but I could show him which thread to follow. “I’m not asking you to kill people, Peter. I’m asking you to be a hero with me, the way you were meant to be. You should be the most powerful special on Earth not me. Your father took that from you. I’m offering you a way to get it back.” 

“I tried to kill my mother! I broke your neck!” He got up and paced, but we didn’t have a big enough living room for him to let off much steam that way. His coffee cup hit the sink, shattering into a dozen shards as sharp as his words. 

“I got better. I stopped you from hurting her.” Wish I hadn’t, but hell that was a long time ago. I don’t want to kill Angela. I want her to have a long life alone knowing that I’ve taken both of her sons from her. 

“I could have killed a shit load of people, Sylar. The only good thing about my father taking my abilities was that he took yours. I couldn’t handle it.” He looked like he was trying to pull his hair out when he ran his fingers through it. He finally met my eyes, and I could see the realization dawn in his. “You’re killing again, aren’t you?” 

Suddenly the smell of blood filled my nostrils, and I felt like I was standing there with blood dripping from my hands. I wanted to deny it. It would be so easy to lie to him, but I’d promised not to. His family lied to him constantly, and I hated it so much when people were dishonest with me. I had to tear my eyes from his while I thought of the best way to tell him. 

“Don’t bother,” Peter snapped at me. “You can’t even look me in the eyes! It’s true. Fuck, Sylar! You made my mother right about you!” 

“No,” I stammered as I walked towards him. “It’s not like it was. I’m not hurting anyone innocent. I’m hunting the bad guys. I swear, Peter.” 

“You promised, Sylar. You said you wouldn’t hunt. You said you were in control!” 

“I am in control!” It was my turn to lose my temper as I got in his face, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. “I’m not hurting anyone who doesn’t deserve it. I know the difference between good and evil, Peter.” 

“Well you would, wouldn’t you?!” He pushed me away from him, and I felt him take a different power from me. If he let regen go, he could get hurt. I could hurt him. I stepped back until my legs hit the coffee table. I was only a couple of feet away from him, but it was better this way. Not that I needed to be within reach to hurt him. I could do it from the other room. “You’re the poster boy for evil.” 

“I’m evil! I’m the villain again! Fine! But I’m taking out the others. I’m stopping the next Samuel before he can come to power! How is that being the bad guy? How is that different than a few of your heroes, Peter! I’ve read your comics while you’re at work, and I want to know how it’s different for me.” Reaching behind me I picked up a pile of his comic books from the table and threw them in his face. 

“You son of a bitch!” He flew at me, pushing me through the double doors into the bedroom. We landed on the bed with him on top of me. I could feel the heat of his anger as he pinned me down on the bed. He let flying go and took another power from me, holding me down with telekinesis.

“Yeah, takes one to know one, Peter.” I was stronger than he was. Could have broken his hold on me with a single thought, but I didn’t. Mostly I was impressed at how quickly he’d learned to grab exactly what power he needed at a time, but it would wear him out. He didn’t have the stamina to take me out, and he knew it. “Not that I know who my real mother was, but yours is enough of a bitch for us both.” 

“You promised me.” His eyes, his beautiful brown eyes were filled with tears of anger. “You said you had control, Sylar.” 

“I do have control.” Sort of…I didn’t raise my voice, and I didn’t struggle. “I’m not running through the city hurting anyone who isn’t asking for it. I’m not like I was before. You showed me how to be a hero, Peter. I don’t want to be a villain, but I am a predator. I can’t help that. It’s evolution, and you know it.” 

“What gives you the right to decide who lives and dies?” He grabbed my shoulders and pushed me into the mattress. Normally I’d be getting off on this, and I was a little bit more than I should be to tell the truth. Hopefully Peter wouldn’t notice that part. “You’re not god.” 

“I know I’m not god, Peter. But I’m the only one who can stop some of them. We’re the only ones who can stop them.” I was pleading now, trying to get him to see the logic, and trying to get him to understand that I was right. “Or it would have been the two of us if your father hadn’t messed you up. I can share everything with you. You’d have the power to stop them. You’d have the power to stop me. Isn’t that what you want? Tell me that you’re not tempted. Go ahead I dare you.” 

“Yes,” Peter’s voice was rough as he straddled me in place. “Yes, I’m fucking tempted, and I think I hate you for it.” 

“Go head and hate me then.” Reaching up I curled my fingers into his hair and pulled his face to mine and kissed him. He didn’t respond at first, but then his tongue pushed against mine as the kiss depended. “Hate me all you want, but remember that I love you. You’re the only person on the planet that I give a rat’s ass about. Without you, I’m nothing but walking death.”


	4. 4

“You’re walking death with me apparently,” Peter said as he pushed off the bed, grabbing some jeans from a pile on the floor. I hated that he left his clothes on the floor, but I’d given up trying to break him of the habit. As if I had a foot to stand on when it came to bad habits that I couldn’t let go. “I’m going for a walk.” 

“Peter, don’t.” I got up and followed him to the bathroom, but he slammed the door in my face so hard that a gust of air moved my hair. “We need to talk.” 

“I don’t want to talk to you, Sylar,” he said through the closed door. I could hear the toilet flush and then the water running. There was a clatter when something fell off the sink, and then more as he put the mouthwash bottle back where it belonged. Great he’s so pissed at me that he doesn’t want my taste in his mouth. 

“Please, Peter. Please don’t leave me.” The words barely made it out of my mouth. I was choking on tears. They were tears brought on my fear and tears of anger. Part of me wanted to demand where he got off judging me like this, but I knew that I deserved it. I was a monster. I pressed my palms against the door and fought back the panic that was churning in my guts. He was going to leave me. If he walked out the door, I’d never see him again. He’d go back to Angela. The world wasn’t like it was when we were behind the Wall. It was full of people. I could hear them on the street below us. I could feel them through the walls if I wanted to, but I didn’t care about any of them. Peter’s the only one I want in my life. 

I nearly fell into the bathroom when he opened the door as violently as he’d closed it. His hair and the collar of his t-shirt were damp from washing his face, and he glared at me with eyes that were nearly black. He was seething, and he pushed me back again with more telekinesis to keep me from getting close. 

“I am going for a walk, so I can figure out what to do. Unlike you, I don’t have all the fucking answers to life, the universe and everything, Sylar.” He snatched his coat from the back of the door and shoved his arms through the sleeves. He let me go while he reached for the doorknob, and glared daggers at me. “Don’t follow me. Don’t call me. Oh and if it’s not too much trouble, try not to fucking kill anyone while I’m gone.” 

The door slammed shut, rattling the pictures on the walls, and I slumped back against the wall and slid onto the floor. I wanted to follow him. I wanted to make him listen to me, but I knew I’d never get through to him. Nathan’s memories and my own experiences with the little shit taught me that when he was in a snit like this I’d be wasting my time. Peter would lash out to me. Going after him would only make it worse. He’d dig in his heels, and then I might as well forget ever getting him to listen to me.

A crystal clear vision of Nathan bribing him with some toy to make him come out from under Arthur’s desk flicked across my eyes. Peter looking up at him with enormous brown eyes filled with tears, and he was crying so hard that he had hiccups while Arthur ranted in the background, telling Peter to grow up and listen. 

I wasn’t Nathan. I wasn’t Arthur. I knew better. I knew Peter better than they did just like he’s the only one to figure me out. I was afraid, but he said while he was gone. He didn’t say he wasn’t coming back. He didn’t pack a bag. A glance at the kitchen counter showed me that he didn’t have his wallet or his keys either. He wouldn’t be gone for long. He’d come back to me. 

But was he coming back because he loved me, or because he felt responsible? I didn’t want him to come back if it was to keep me from hurting anyone. I wanted him to be with me because he loves me, not because he’s my conscience. He has to believe me that I’m trying to do the right thing. He just has to. I don’t know what I’ll do if he doesn’t. 

Bullshit. 

I knew exactly what I’d do. I’d stop trying. I’d go on a fucking killing spree. It’d be yet another of my famous temper tantrums like the one that cost Nathan his life. God, I rubbed my face with my hands and wiped tears on my arm before hitting the back of my head against the wall. Angela was right. I hadn’t changed at all. I was Sylar. I was a killer, and Peter’s love and support hadn’t changed me at all. 

My temper was brewing as I got up. It was better than feeling sorry for myself and sobbing like some pathetic loser. I wanted to show him. I almost threw a lamp against the wall. It was tempting to destroy quite a bit in our home, but it was our home. That’s what I had to remember. Yes, I was angry. Yes, it made me want to strike out, but I wasn’t that person anymore even if it was easier to be the monster. 

“You’ll never get him to take the power if you act like the old you,” I told my reflection in the dresser mirror. “He needs to see that you’re in control. He needs to understand that while you’re hunting you’re not murdering. It’s a difference, and Peter has to see that. Now suck it the fuck up. Do something positive.” Christ I sounded like fucking Dr. Phil. 

I got dressed after a quick shower and shave, and then I took my keys and went out. I needed to talk to someone. Peter could let himself in with telekinesis when he got back. Peter was my only friend. Gabriel would have gone to church. He’d ask some priest for guidance. Well I hadn’t had much luck with that. I was still waiting for God to smite me for what I was doing, but he hasn’t yet. 

Mohinder was an idiot. The thought of talking to Parkman made me laugh out loud. There was one person who understood that sometimes you had to kill to make the world a safer place. Of course I was his usual target, but Noah might be willing to listen to me. If that wasn’t proof that I was still out of my fucking mind, nothing was. I went up to the roof and flew for Noah’s apartment in Virginia. Hopefully he wouldn’t shoot me too many times. 

***  
I ran my fingertips over the painted sign on the window of the sushi restaurant, I remembered Nathan’s – no my – lunch with Angela. The taste of the slimy raw fish was clinging to my tongue as I went around to the side to mount the steps up to Noah’s apartment. The old me would mock him about living above a fish market, letting him have it for how far the mighty have fallen, but I’m not the old me. I’d have to keep my snarky remarks to myself. Unless Noah did something to draw my ire, which would be a shame since I was here to talk to the only person who might understand my dilemma. 

With my hand on the railing I shifted my appearance a few times, assuming shapes of people that Noah wouldn’t try to kill on sight before settling back into my own skin. Pretending to be someone else wouldn’t exactly show that I’d changed. I’d cost Noah so much over the years, but then it had always been a game of tit for tat with the two of us. I wanted him to suffer for what he and Elle had done by stopping me from killing myself, and he wanted me to suffer for Eden and what I’d done to Claire. The ancient Egyptians would weigh the heart of the dead against the weight of a feather to decide if you were worthy of the next life. I had to wonder where Noah and my hearts would balance against that feather or against each other. 

“I haven’t come to cause any trouble. I just need someone to talk to.” I rapped on the door with my knuckles, and then I called out, letting him hear my voice. If I still had Dale’s hearing, I’m sure that I’d have heard him cocking his gun before opening the door. Or hell knowing Noah, he’d probably just shoot me through the door. 

“Sylar,” he looked at me and shook his head through the space the chain allowed when he popped the door open. He let out a heavy sigh, shutting the door for a few moments while he unhooked the chain and then held it open for me. “I have to invite you in, right? That’s how it works with your kind.” 

“Very funny, Noah, I don’t need an invitation, but it is nice of you. In case you’ve wondering I don’t sparkle in sunlight either.” So much for keeping my snark to a minimum, I did manage not to mock the Salvation Army décor. “I was wondering if you had a few minutes? I need someone to talk to.” 

“So you came to me?” He blinked behind his signature horn rimmed glasses and shut the door behind me. “Why the hell would you do that?”

“Because when it comes down to it, Noah while you were walking along your path of moral ambiguity, you were a good man. You killed people who needed to be killed, and you weren’t labeled a monster.” 

“I can think of at least one exception to that rule,” he said with a snort as he leaned against the wall glaring at me, folding his arms across his chest. Neither one of us would be sitting for this chat. 

“The exception realizes that he is an exception. That is until you figure out a way to permanently kill me, but until then, Noah. Can you listen to me for a little while? I don’t have anyone else.” 

“What about Peter?” Noah didn’t much care for my relationship with Peter, but at least he wasn’t spouting off threats and nastiness the way that Angela had in the past to Peter and I both. 

“I offered to give him my ability, so he could get more than one power at a time.” Fuck it. I wasn’t going to stand up for the entire history lesson. I dropped onto the sofa and sat with my hands on my knees while I explained my logic to the man who wanted me dead. “Peter doesn’t understand that sometimes you have to kill. You do.” 

“And you want me to tell Peter that it’s OK for him to stop being Peter?” Noah was sitting on one of his kitchen chairs. The story was too long for him to stand there listening to it as well. 

“No, I don’t want you to talk to Peter. I just need to hear that what I’m doing isn’t wrong, Noah. Is it wrong for me to kill people like Samuel? Is it wrong for me to stop someone else from becoming the new Sylar?” 

Noah took off his glasses and set them on the table. He glanced at his refrigerator, and I bet he wished he had a beer or something stronger. “No, it’s not wrong. If you’re telling me the truth, Sylar and you’re only hunting bad guys, then I can’t tell you that it’s wrong. I’d be doing the same thing.” 

“So I’m OK then?” I have always needed the approval of a parental figure. First I wanted Virginia’s. Then I wanted Chandra’s. When they were gone, I clung to Angela when she said she was my mother. Right now I needed Noah’s. 

“No, you’re not OK, Sylar. You’re never going to be OK. But as long as you don’t cross the line and hurt anyone innocent, I think you’re on the path to being OK.” He slapped his knees with both hands and got up, and I knew it was time for me to go. “If Peter shares your power, you’ll have to be careful. I don’t know if he can handle it, and you didn’t take Arthur’s. What happens if Peter loses it, and you have to put him down?”

“I won’t let that happen.” It was very possible that Peter could lose himself to the monster like I had. “I will never let that happen.” 

“But if it does? What will you do then? Will you kill Peter?” 

“I’d have to,” I told him. My mouth tasted like bile when I said it. “He’d want me to.”


	5. 5

There was a thump outside of Noah’s door, and he had a gun in his hand before I could blink. It must have been tucked inside of something on his kitchen counter. I jumped up too, ready for anything. I could feel a special through the door, and his power was strong. No one knew I was here, but Noah probably had more enemies than I did. Wouldn’t it be hysterical if I got to prove how trustworthy I’d become by protecting the man who’d killed me at least three times. 

Noah glanced back at me, as he walked over to the door. The fatherly persona he’d been using with me was gone, and if there was any doubt that he was as complex as I was, it was gone now. It was the Company Man who was asking me if I would back him up with a nod. 

I nodded back, stepping clear of the cheap coffee table while he reached for the door knob. I didn’t know who was out there, but the power sent a familiar shiver of want down my spine. 

“Hey Noah!” Peter called out as he knocked on the door. “You there?” 

Noah and I exchanged looks one more time. He started chuckling. I started wondering if I could get out the window before he opened the door. But before I could escape, Noah opened the door.

“Sylar?” Peter’s eyes widened when he saw me standing there. He was more surprised to see me than he was that Noah had a gun on him. “What are you doing here?”

“Peter,” Noah chuckled and stepped back to let Peter inside. The gun vanished from sight again, and I was starting to wonder if he didn’t have an ability to hide the damn thing. He was like a Highlander Immortal with his sword. It didn’t matter what they wore, they could still hide a Claymore under their biker jackets. 

“I thought you took telekinesis?” I asked him. My face was growing hot. “How did you get here?” 

“I did.” He shook his head and handed Noah a six pack of beer and smiled over at me. The smile was good to see, but there was still wariness in his eyes. Christ, if he told Noah that I was killing people, that would be the end of me. Noah would run down to the sushi restaurant, get the biggest cleaver they had, come back and cut my fucking head off. “I also left the apartment without my keys and wallet. Luckily I had my phone, so I called Hiro.” 

“Hiro,” I didn’t say anything else. It explained why the power was strong, and why it felt familiar. It’s one that I’ve always wanted, and for a few moments I lost myself wondering if I could learn it from Peter while he had it. I’d never tried to learn a power from Peter. Usually what he had he got from me, so I was very curious. Curious was much better than hungry. 

“What are you doing here?” Peter asked as he snatched one of the beers before Noah could put it into the very empty fridge. I watched as he sat down in the chair that Noah had been using, popped the bottle open and took a long drink from it. 

“I needed to talk to someone.” No reason to hide it. “And Noah’s….Well, he’s not my friend, but he’s someone I…. who understands me.” 

“Really?” That came out as a snort. He might have smiled when he came in, but his temper was simmering beneath the surface. Peter was still very much mad at me. “I wonder if he’s any better at it than I am.” 

Noah looked like he wanted to put on his coat and leave the two of us alone in his apartment. I’m sure that he was thrilled that we’d moved our squabble into his territory when we had a perfectly good apartment in New York. He gave Peter’s shoulder a squeeze and took one of the beers for himself. Neither one of them asked me if I wanted one. Peter knew I didn’t much like beer, but Noah could have asked. 

“Noah gave me some insights into our situation. I told him what I asked you to do.” I locked my eyes with Peter, silently begging him not to tell Noah the rest. 

“Well, this should be interesting then.” Peter gave me a small nod. I took it that he’d keep the killing a secret. He does love me, and he knows what Noah would do. Thank god he’s not mad enough to sell me out. “I came to see Noah because I don’t have anyone that I can talk to about it either.” 

“Why don’t I head out then? I was on my way home, and you and Noah can talk.” The guilt for Nathan’s death flared in my gut. I’d taken the person he’d have gone to away from him, and I hoped to hell this didn’t start another round of him hating me for it. He’d forgiven me. I wouldn’t be able to take it if he changed his mind. Hell, I’d tell Noah I was hunting if he did, so Noah could kill me. I pulled my keys out and pressed them into Peter’s hands. “I can let myself in when I get there. Do you want some money?” 

“I ported home before I came here, Sylar.” His fingers curled around the keys and then he pressed them back in my hand. “I got my keys and my wallet. I’ll probably be here for awhile, but I’ll be home.”

“OK.” He said he’d be home. I didn’t let go of his hands for at least a minute. I drank in the warmth of his skin, and I could feel that under the anger he still loved me. He wouldn’t tell Noah. I was safe. I caught Noah looking down at the label on his beer, and took that as my signal to steal a kiss from Peter. I smiled and said,” That’s the only way I like the taste of beer. I’ll see you later.” 

***  
I knew it was a bad cliché, but I decided to cook Peter something special for dinner. I didn’t know when he was coming, so I had to settle for a pot of stew since the longer it simmered in the crock pot the better it would be. There was something calming about chopping up the carrots, onions and potatoes, and I loved the way it smelled. Cooking is one of my favorite things to do, and I know that Peter appreciates it. I’d learned in our Wall years that tuna casserole and macaroni and cheese were about it for Peter’s culinary talents. He was the king of take out. 

Once the stew was cooking I tidied up the apartment. We’d left a bit of a mess in the bedroom, and I had to pick up the comics that I’d thrown at him. A few of them were wrinkled, and I felt horrible about that. You don’t damage books, and I’d treated something that was important to him like garbage. I sat them on the kitchen counter and used a few powers to warm them and smooth out the wrinkles. They weren’t perfect, but they were better. I called up the comic shop where he bought them and had them pull all the titles again. I’d go down there tomorrow and pick them up for him. 

I was sitting in the window, watching the pigeons on the fire escape when I heard Peter’s keys in the lock. I didn’t rush over to see him when he came through the door although I wanted to. He’d said he was coming home. I knew he’d be here eventually. 

“That smells really good,” he said, as he took off his jacket. He saw the comics and gave me a small smile. 

“I tried to fix them. I’m sorry. I called the shop where you got them, and I’ll get you replacements tomorrow.” 

“Thanks.” He came over to me, and he placed his hand on my cheek and played with my hair. “We can go together, and we can go to the used bookstore after if you want.”

“I’d like that.” I wanted to ask what happened with Noah, but Peter would tell me in his own time. 

“Move over,” he said, pushing at my leg, so he could sit in the window too. I shifted, which meant that I pretty much had to straddle the sill, so he could sit between my legs. “Yes, Sylar. I’ll take your power.”


	6. 6

Peter had agreed to copy my aptitude. That was a couple of days ago. I’d been thrilled. He’d listened to my pleas, and he’d obviously let it go that I’d killed someone. But that didn’t mean that I was going to rush into it. Sure it’d been my first instinct. I wanted him to be my equal so badly, but there were so many ways that it could go wrong. I’d thought of them before I asked him. I’d been thinking about them when I went to see Noah, and Peter probably had too. I should be ecstatic, but I wasn’t. 

Had he and Noah come up with some sort of trap? I scrubbed at my face and looked into my coffee as I stirred much too much milk and sugar into it. I wasn’t in the mood for tea this morning, so I’d stolen some of Peter’s coffee. Peter wouldn’t do that to me. We loved each other. I should have stayed behind and found some way to listen to their conversation. I trust Peter, but I can’t trust Noah even if I did seek out his thoughts on the matter to begin with. 

Even with all the milk I managed the burn the tip of my tongue on the coffee, and I wrinkled my nose as it quickly healed from my regen. The water shut off in the shower, and I knew Peter would be coming into the living room shortly dressed for his day of work. He’d be going out there for another day where he could be killed. Whenever I thought about his mortality it frightened me. I’d figured out how to prevent that, and it was time for me to stop pissing around. I had to stop being afraid of the what ifs. 

“You’re over thinking it, Sylar,” Peter said as he came into the room, tucking in his paramedic uniform top and adjusting his belt. 

“I know I am. I can’t help myself. You know that.” I didn’t bother to deny it. There wasn’t any reason to. Peter knew me better than anyone after all. 

“I said ‘yes’, so why don’t I call in sick and we do this?” He leaned against the wall and gave me a lopsided grin. Unlike me wasn’t racked with nerves and freaking out. He’d agreed to condemn himself to Hell, and he was smiling like it was the best thing in the world to do. 

None of this had turned out the way I’d seen my future. Hiro said that I’d die alone. But when I was trapped in Parkman’s Fortress of Solitude, Peter had come for me. He’d done it to save everyone but me, but in the end he’d saved me too. I’d changed for him then, or I’d tried to. Before Peter arrived I’d been forced to be good. It wasn’t as if there was anyone there for me to kill. But his faith in our escape and then his faith in me showed me that I could be a better person. 

“Sylar?” I jumped when I felt his hand on my shoulder. He’d come across the room while I was deep in thought. “I listened to you. I want to do it.” Then his hand reached up to tug on my hair playfully. “I know about the repercussions. Hell, I thought up most of them on my own without your help. You’re right. I am stronger than I was. I’ll be able to handle it.” 

“I’m just afraid,” My voice was so small as I leaned into his touch. His fingers were warm against my skin. “I’m afraid that if you slip that you’ll hate me.” 

“I don’t hate you for slipping, do I?” He placed his other hand on the other side of my face and made me look at him. He was serious. “I was mad, but I understand. Do you trust me?” 

I just nodded and then kissed the heel of one of his hands. “Call in, Peter. Hell, you should probably take a few days off. We’ll have to get you used to it before you mingle with other people.” 

Christ, I sounded like I was preparing for a full moon, and he was a werewolf about to make his first transition. And there I was again comparing what I was to the monsters from the movies I watched growing up at my friend’s house since my mother would never allow it. 

He let out a sigh, and we shared a kiss. While our lips touched I could stop thinking about what might go wrong. “I’ll call in, but I want to do something else before we do it.” 

“What?” I felt ice run down my spine. The two possibilities that I came up with were that he wanted to talk to his mother, and fuck I didn’t want or need that. Angela could get her fingers back into his soul, and she’d say whatever it took to keep him. She’d do what Noah didn’t. She’d take him away from me. 

The other option wasn’t much better. He’d want to go see Nathan’s grave. We’d been there before, and while Peter always felt better for it, I didn’t. It was worse than those mirrors at the carnival when I’d seen my real past. Seeing Nathan’s headstone made me face the petty monster that I’d been. The unforgiving bastard who’d taken Peter’s brother from him to punish him for not wanting me to be his brother, and I didn’t want to be reminded. 

“I want to go to church. It’s been a long time.” Peter was looking at me while he dialed in to the hospital to say he couldn’t come in because of a family emergency. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I think a few days is all I need. Tell Hesam he can kick my ass for it when I get back.”

“You want to go to church?” That wasn’t what I expected at all. Suddenly the tightness in my chest released, and I could breathe. I started searching Nathan’s memories, and I couldn’t remember church being that important to Peter. He went when he had to on Christmas, Easter, weddings and funerals. 

He wasn’t like me. I went every weekend with my mother, and I went on my own before Chandra walked into my shop. I went one more time after Brian’s blood covered my hands. I’d begged God to kill me. I wanted to be punished for what I’d done. I’d expected lightning to crackle through the vaulted ceilings. Hell, I wanted it. I wanted to suffer for what I’d done, and it wasn’t until I was trapped alone for three years that I found out what suffering was. Parkman had been the hand of God. 

“I want to go to Confession,” Peter said, as he laced our fingers together. “I haven’t been for a long time, and I don’t remember the last time I did that. I want a clean slate, Sylar. OK?”

“Yes,” I answered him. It made perfect sense to me. I tugged him with me, so we could sit down on the sofa. Neither one of us let go of the other’s hands. I brushed his hair out of his eyes and touched foreheads with him. “I think it’s a good idea. I used to go before. When I was alone, I spent a lot of time at church, praying for someone to save me. Then there you were.” 

“I didn’t save you, Sylar.” He reached up to curl his fingers into my hair our breath mingling. The fear of what we were going to do slipped away with his words. “We saved each other. Let me get out of this and into some regular clothes, and then we can both light a candle or two.” 

“I’d like that, Peter.” I got up with him, following Peter into the bedroom to put on something better than what I’d been wearing. I wasn’t a little boy anymore, but it still felt odd not to dress up for church. I settled for a nice shirt and coat over black slacks. Thankfully I’d already shaved, so it didn’t take me long to become acceptable. 

“Ready?” Peter asked as he finished tucking in his shirt and pulling on his own jacket. 

“Yes,” I said with a smile. “Would you like to go to the church I did in Queens? I can fly us there.” I didn’t want to go to St. Peter’s. Although I doubted that Angela could cross the threshold, I didn’t want to take the chance.

“That’d be great, but let’s take the long way. We’ve got forever, Sylar. No need to rush.” We took our time getting down to the street, stealing a kiss or two along the way. We couldn’t seem to walk for more than 20 feet without our shoulders bumping or our hands touching. Once we got into a cab, I knew that Peter was right. We did have forever.


	7. 7

The church was old, its bricks weathered and worn by more than sixty years of New York winters followed by quite a few scorching summers. I’d been to it before sort of when I was locked in my head. That version of the church didn’t look as old as the real thing. Going to places that I sought comfort in during my loneliness was always such a jarring experience. 

I still hadn’t gone to my shop. I think part of me was hoping that it was gone, but I knew it wasn’t. I think the Company kept it there, hoping that I’d return to where I was spawned. I didn’t know if they were still waiting for my return. It wasn’t as if it was hard to find me now. All they had to do was follow Peter, and they’d find me. I wasn’t exactly in hiding.

Peter tilted is head back to take in the stained glass, and then reached for my hand to give it a gentle tug. “You’re coming with me, right?”

“Of course.” I returned the caress, rubbing my thumb along the pulse point in his wrist. “I should go to Confession too. Of course, I can’t tell them everything. If I did, we’d be here for years.” 

“I know,” he said with a sad smile. “But we’ll both feel better, and then we can do it.” 

I let out a snort of a laugh, remembering when doing it meant something very, very different. The Big It now would impact our lives in so many ways. I’d never take our relationship lightly, but sharing my power with him was much more intimate than sex. It would be a huge game changer for us. It was the final step, tying us together. We’d been though so much together and at each others’ throats, and all of that was about to change. I wasn’t only going inside with him to make my own peace with God. I was doing it to pray that we survived this. I had to pray that I could fight back my hunger, and that he wouldn’t be devoured by his own like he was before. 

We walked through the doors together, crossing ourselves with fingers dampened with Holy Water. I knew there’d be no lightning bolts from God for what I’d done. Inside the church was closer to the one in my imagination where I’d spent weeks on my knees praying for death or a single voice to guide my way to my redemption. Peter’d come for me, and I do think God had a hand in that. I wished like hell that I’d be able to be good the way I’d promised him. I might have tried to convince him with logic that when I killed it was the right thing to do, but I knew it was bullshit. Peter did too. 

“I haven’t been here since the beginning. I mean the real here.” The windows were as beautiful as I remembered them, and the smell of the incense and candle wax made me feel at home. My mother had been strict about church. We went every Sunday, and I still went after I’d moved away from her. I loved coming here and being closer to god. “I thought about becoming a priest once.” 

“Really? You never told me that before.” Peter liked it when I shared tidbits about my past like that, and I liked sharing them with him. I could see him wondering what would have happened to me if I’d been a man of the cloth when I’d discovered what I could do. 

“I wondered about that too,” I told him. We knew each other well enough that he wasn’t surprised that I knew what he was thinking. 

“Gabriel?” I turned to see Father Anthony standing near the holy water font. “Gabriel Gray, it has been years!” His crows-feet deepened as he took in my measure. I wasn’t the meek watchmaker that used to take communion from him every Sunday. “It’s so good to see you.” He took my hand, and I was thankful that he didn’t offer me condolences about my mother. I hadn’t been here for her funeral, and that was yet another nagging bit of guilt to add to the strew churning in my gut. 

“This is my…” I looked at Peter while I tried to decide what to call him. New York had legalized gay marriage, and I wasn’t ashamed of our relationship. But this was different. “My boyfriend, Peter Petrelli.” If God wasn’t going to smite me for being a serial killer, chances were I’d live through admitting to Father Anthony that I was gay. To give him credit Father Anthony didn’t even blink. He didn’t clutch his crucifix or tell me that my mother would be spinning in her grave, so that was a huge relief. 

Peter wasn’t shy at all not that, that was a surprise. Peter didn’t do shy. He and Father Anthony chatted the entire way over to the Confessionals while I stayed behind to light a candle for my mother and then another for Peter. My fingers shook as I lit the match; the flame wavering as it finally took in the rack of tea light candles. I missed real votives, but I knew these were cheaper and easier to clean up. The flame was the same as was the sentiment attached. Once both candles were lit I sat in the same pew where I’d spent so many Sundays at Mass with my mother to wait for Peter. 

I still wanted God to show me that what I was doing was wrong. I wished that the lack of thunder, lightning and the sound of the Four Horsemen’s hoof beats would make me feel better. It would be arrogant of me to think that I was doing what God wanted, but I still clung to the slender thread that, that might be true. Real life isn’t like the Bible. God gave us free will for a reason. I know that I’ve exploited that, and I’ll do it countless more times until this reality ended. 

“Sylar.” I jerked when Peter put his hand on the back of my neck, pulling me out of my thoughts. He sat next to me and laced his fingers with mine. “You’re not going to solve the riddles of the universe. Let it go. I want to do this, and it’ll be all right. No changing your mind now, OK?” 

“I won’t change my mind.” I gave his hand a squeeze and then pulled Peter up besides me. “It’s just hard to know if it’s the right decision or not.” 

“That’s life, Sylar. Come on.” Peter led me out into the daylight where I squinted while he put on his sunglasses. I wanted to kiss him and hold him, needing the physical connection to quash the fears that were gnawing at me, but standing in front of my childhood church wasn’t the place for that. If he’d been a girl, it still wouldn’t have been proper to do that here. “Let’s eat, and then we can do it. I’m ready.” 

“You’re always hungry,” I teased as I started down the sidewalk. “There’s a nice coffee shop down the block where we used to have lunch after church when I was little. They had the best meatloaf sandwiches.” 

“That sounds great.” Peter was walking so close to me that our hands kept brushing against each others. It was going to be all right. I had to believe that. “Do they have ice cream?”


	8. 8

Rain was cascading against the windows of our apartment. Peter was watching it come down, and I was watching him. It’d been days since we’d gone to church, so he could confess his sins. Days where I hadn’t shared my power with him although that was what he wanted me to do. 

I was afraid of how it would change him, and no matter what he said, I knew that he was scared too. He was dressed in a dark blue shirt that could have passed for his work clothes if EMT was printed on the back of it. His dark hair was wet from the shower, and he smelled of soap as I wrapped my arms around him from behind and brushed my lips over the nape of his neck. 

“Are you ready?” I asked him, my voice nearly silenced by the thunder that rattled the window. It was the perfect weather for me to turn my angel into a demon. God knew I couldn’t do this on a bright sunny day. 

“I’ve been ready since Sunday, Sylar.” Peter put his arms over mine and leaned back against me. His hair clung to my cheek and chin as he tilted his head back to give me an awkwardly aimed kiss. “I think I’ve been ready since the day you asked to be honest. Putting it off isn’t helping one way or the other.” 

“I know.” He turned around, still staying close enough for me to feel his heat through my clothing. “No more me worrying about what might happen to you. It’s time to take the fork in the road and do it.” 

Peter’s fingers laced together behind my neck as he pulled me down to share a real kiss, tasting of his cinnamon toothpaste and the flavor that was uniquely his. He trusted me to help him do the right thing, and that meant the world to me. I’d never been good with trust, but I trusted him. Trust, love and forgiveness were the foundation of our friendship of our relationship. 

“Then stop thinking,” he teased, reaching up to yank on my hair. “No thinking, no brooding. I know it’s hard for you.” 

“You have no idea.” I kissed his forehead and then his eyelids. “But you will.” I took his hands in mine and tugged him over to the sofa. We sat together. Still close enough to share the air we were breathing as I felt the pull of his copying power send a tingle through the skin of my arm. It spread as he searched for what he wanted, pins and needles sparking along the nerves and then a flash as he found my real power. Before he’d skirt around that one, avoiding its tainted touch, but not this time, he wanted it now, and he’d have it.

He gasped, his grip tightening as my power became his. I tried not to panic as he let go of me, shifting back several inches while he put his head in his hands. I couldn’t imagine what he was going through. 

There was no sudden awakening of my intuitive aptitude. It had always been there. It made me a good student. It made me good at puzzles and machines. It grew stronger as I got older. I’d always craved knowledge, but the hunter didn’t hit until after Chandra pulled the blindfold off and made me see that I was special, waking up the sleeping dragon in my soul. 

“Are you all right?” I asked, placing my hand on his stomach. I could feel his muscles tense and then relax from my familiar touch.

“Yeah.” He nodded, opening his eyes and then quickly shut them again. “Christ it’s making my ears ring.” 

“I think that’s the thunder, Peter.” It wasn’t, but I’d tell him anything to make him feel better. “Let me get you a bottle of water. Hold on. I’ll be right back.” 

“A couple of aspirin wouldn’t be a bad idea either,” he called after me, his voice sounded strained. I didn’t feel the hunger from him, not yet anyway, but I knew that I would. 

My hands were trembling as I snatched a bottle of water from the refrigerator. On a whim I grabbed a couple of peaches from the bottom drawer. Since our time behind the Wall, we always made sure that we had a full refrigerator instead of the water, mustard and spoiled Thanksgiving leftovers that had been in it when Peter brought me home with him. With the aspirin and water in one hand, and the peaches in the other, I settled onto the coffee table between Peter’s knees. 

“Here, babe.” I liked calling him babe. I’d never done that with anyone before not that there was really anyone before Peter. “Take those.” 

“And call you in the morning?” He joked and offered me a watery smile as he popped them into his mouth and washed them down. “It’s not so bad. I mean it’s not the first time I’ve had it, but it is different this time.” 

“That might be because you don’t have a ton of other powers, or your own mimicry fighting it.” I handed him the peach and bit into mine, licking the juice from my lips and chewed it slowly. It was sweet, cool and ripe, but until I knew that Peter was going to be all right I couldn’t enjoy how good it was. “No plans to cut my head open or beat the shit out of me?”

“Not yet.” He chuckled, looking a little more like the real Peter, but I could see the brightness in his eyes. He was becoming aware of the possibilities, the flood of information that I had grown used to processing. It drove me away from contact with people, heightening the neurotic behavior that I’d picked up from my mother long before the hunger made me its bitch. 

He might not be able to mimic abilities with his innate empathic mimicry anymore, but I hoped to hell that his basic empathy would be able to fight that urge to slink into the shadows that I’d had and fought everyday. I couldn’t imagine Peter not being social. I might be afraid of dying alone, but Peter thrived on interaction with humanity. He needed the emotional and physical contact like I needed knowledge and power. 

“That’s already an improvement then.” I looked around the apartment. “Not that we have anything heavy enough for you to crack my skull open out here. Should I get a lock for the hall closet? I wouldn’t want you to suddenly feel the need and get your baseball bat or the iron.” 

“I’m going to be OK, Sylar. You won’t let me drown in it anymore than I let you.” Peter scooted closer and pressed his forehead against mine. “Be happy not scared, please.” 

“Shouldn’t I be the one encouraging you?” I asked as I shifted, so that our knees were touching too. 

“Yeah, but I’m better at it than you are. I even went to school for it.” 

“As if you needed school to learn how to be a caring human being, Peter. If I’d gone to those classes, I’d’ve failed.” 

“You’re not that fucked up.” He thought the best of me. I loved him for that. 

“No, but I am broken, even though you are fixing me.” 

“Yeah, I can figure you out now.” He suddenly smiled, and I forgot about my fear and the storm raging outside and in his mind at the sight of it. “Maybe it’s my turn to figure you out and fix you, Sylar.” 

“You…” I wanted to say that he’d already done that, but I couldn’t. His mouth was on mine, keeping me from saying another word.


	9. 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: SMUT, blood, no cuddles and roses in this chapter.

It was the middle of the night, but I was wide awake. Peter was at work, and although I should be used to his crazy schedule by now I slept better when he was home and I knew he was safe. He’d copied my power over a week ago, and he’d been OK. I was impressed at how well he’d handled the gnawing hunger, and even more impressed at how quickly he learned a few powers from me. He wasn’t helpless anymore not that he was before, but now that he had telekinesis and Elle’s electrical control, the two powers that were tired to me with strong emotions, I felt better about him being out of my sight. 

But I missed him. Missed the touch of his hand, the feel of his warmth next to me in bed, and I missed the sound of him when he was trying to be quiet when he went about his day to day stuff around the apartment. 

I was waiting for the tea pot to whistle and smearing peanut butter on a small stack of graham crackers when my phone rang. It was Peter’s ringtone, and I dropped the knife, raising my hand to use telekinesis to make my phone fly into my hand from where I’d left it by the book I’d been reading before I got hungry. Peter never called at night. He’d call me during the day to check in with me, but he did not call when he assumed I’d be sleeping like a normal person. My heart was pounding when I answered. 

“Sylar,” he sounded terrified. “Sylar, I need you. Please. Hurry.” 

“Peter.” The kettle started shrieking, and I yanked it off the stove with another quick touch of telekinesis and shut the burner off. The steam slowly escaping the tiny opening turned the shrill whistle into a stuttering cry as the water cooled down. “Where are you? Are you in the hospital?” 

“No, I don’t know where I am.” He was crying. His voice choked with tears, and I could hear him swearing under his breath. “I lost it. I killed someone, Sylar.” 

“Fuck.” I knew it’d happen sooner or later. We both did, and we’d been fooling ourselves to think that he’d be able to keep control of the hunger. “I’ll be right there.” 

“I followed someone. I’m behind a building.”

“Don’t worry. I can find you. I can always find you, Peter.” I kept talking to him as I raced to the bedroom to trade my pajama bottoms for a pair of jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt from my drawer. “Are you alone? Did anyone see?” 

“No, no one saw. I’m scared.” 

“I know you are, baby,” I tried to sound comforting. I’m not good at compassion, but this time I knew exactly how he felt. And I’d be damned another time if I’d let him deal with the guilt and shame alone the way that I had over Brian. But damn if the monster inside of me wasn’t jealous that Peter had gone hunting without me. It wanted me to hurry up and find him on the off chance that the brain was still viable, and then we could have the power too. 

“I’ll be right there. I have to hang up, but I’ll find you. Don’t worry.” I was picturing Peter, guilt ridden and covered in blood walking up to some donut munching member of NYPD to confess his sins as I climbed out of the window and took off into the night sky. It was a warm night, but I still got goose bumps as I flew. I hated the power for the same reason that Peter loved it. It was Nathan’s, and for all the guilt I felt for my first kill, it was nothing compared to the guilt I still felt for taking Nathan away from Peter. He’d forgiven me, and I’d changed although I think it was more of a case of me finding my sanity than evolution on my part. But I couldn’t forgive myself. I don’t think that I ever will. 

Peter and I were connected. We’d spent years together forming that bond, and now that he had my power, it wasn’t all that hard for me to find that spark in the darkness that was him. I could feel other specials at the fringe of my awareness, but Peter’s glow was the strongest, as it should be. 

When I could feel someone out there stronger than Peter, then I’d worry. That would be when I needed him at my side to take down the new predator in our territory. New York was ours. I had no intention of sharing it. Of course Peter thought of the entire world as our place to serve by fighting the good fight to take out the villains. I figured I’d consider putting on a cape and spandex on a case to case basis. 

It didn’t take me long to find him. I started at Mercy Heights and worked out from there, following the path he’d take to walk home. I knew he was off work when he’d lost control. I could feel the call of Peter’s power tickling at the base of my skull and landed nearby. The hot coppery scent of blood was lingering in the air along with the stink of trash from the alley. A flash of blue energy shattered the darkness, making spots before my eyes, when I came around the corner. Peter was standing over a body, blood up to his elbows while the power danced over his blood covered hands. 

“Sylar?” He asked, his voice still shaky.

“Who else?” I said as I walked up to him. His eyes were deer in the headlights wide, and he looked ready to bolt if I moved to quickly. “I’m here. I came because you needed me.” 

I stepped around the pool of blood, and the thing inside of me scrambled up my spine to look through my eyes. It liked what it saw, and I licked my lips, wishing I could taste the blood that was smeared on Peter’s hands and face from his kill. It was less pleased by the mess Peter had made of the brain. He didn’t have my skill, and there wasn’t anything left for me to dig through for the power. How inconsiderate. I’d have to teach him how to share a kill. 

“I’m sorry.” I think he was talking to me, but I couldn’t tell. He could have been talking to the body or God for all I knew. He extinguished the power and let me pull him into my arms. He was trembling from fear and the adrenaline rush of the kill. He might be scared, but I knew that he felt good too. It was that pleasure that made the guilt that much worse. That was something that I didn’t allow myself to feel anymore. I shoved that guilt away with the scraps of Gabriel into the dark corners of my mind. 

“It’s OK. We knew that it was bound to happen.” I didn’t want to talk about it though. I wanted him. The blood was driving me nuts. I’d been dreaming about him hunting with me, and here he was disheveled and bloody. Ducking my face, I captured his mouth in a kiss that was anything but sweet. It was all teeth and tongues as I pushed him against the wall on the far side of the alley away from the corpse. 

“Sylar,” he growled against me as I wedged my leg between his and rubbed against him, so he could feel how hard I was. “This is fucked up.” 

“I know.” I took another kiss, drawing his lip between my teeth and bit until his blood joined his prey’s. Peter whimpered as he pushed up my shirt to drag his fingers over my chest. “But you want this too.” 

“I do.” He couldn’t deny it. He couldn’t keep pretending that nothing had changed. He had to stop lying to himself that he was still the Boy Scout. Now he was just like me. The way he was meant to be. “Want you.” 

“Good.” I reached into his pocket to find the lube that I knew he kept there with one hand while the other twisted his hair to pull his head back, so that I could bite along his throat. I didn’t want to let go of his hair, but I had to, to open the tube and get us ready. “Drop your fucking pants.” 

Peter made fast work of his pants and mine too, until they were pooled around our knees and ankles. His gasp made me smile as I smeared the still cold lube around his entrance and inside after turning him to face the wall. He chuckled when I hissed as I spread it over my cock. “Did you keep that in the fucking fridge at work?” 

“No, it’s his power,” he said over his shoulder, and he had a real smile on his face. “He tried to freeze me.” 

We’d been together for so long, and fucking each other against that goddamn wall happened enough times for us to know exactly what to do now. But this was different. We weren’t alone here, and we had a dead body in a puddle of cooling blood nearby. Peter braced against the wall as I kept at him, spreading more lube and making him ready for me. 

“I like that power. I missed it.” I’d be sure to learn it from Peter later when we were done with our fun. We could use it to get rid of the body too. But that was another lesson for later. 

Pushing into Peter’s warmth was like going home. He shoved his ass back against me with a hiss of his own, swearing under his breath as he got accustomed to my intrusion. My fingers were curled around his hips, holding him in place for a minute. I’d have waited longer, but we didn’t have all night for cuddles and kisses. I moaned and swore as I started to move, building up to a good pace while he held onto the wall tightened around me. I shifted, making sure that I’d hit the spot. 

“Fuck Sylar. Yeah, right there.” 

“Got your ass figured out, don’t I?” I teased, picking up the pace, and started to slam into him. I was close, and so was here. I could feel our bond, the twining of our powers and empathy, along with the heat of our bodies while we fucked. It was magic. It was all that I wanted and needed, and I felt my body start to tighten as my orgasm started to spark along my nerves, tightening my balls against my body. I stroked at Peter with telekinesis, making sure that I had the right amount of pressure on his prostrate to make him come with me. My vision went white as I bit down on his shoulder to keep from screaming into the night as I came. I reached around to finish Peter off until his come hit the wall in front of him.


	10. Ten

Peter turned and leaned against the bricks while we tried to remember how to breathe. I was caught up in all the emotions that were flowing between us in a Gordian knot. He was happy, and so was I. The guilt that he’d been drowning in when I arrived was gone, and it’d been replaced by a smug arrogance that might’ve been a reflection of what I was feeling. When we’re close together, bodies and souls touching, that happened a lot, sometimes it was hard to tell who was feeling what. This was something I only experienced with Peter, so I had no idea if it was normal or not. It was normal for us, and that’s all that mattered. 

Even though it was late at night and cold flies were droning around the corpse, and the blood had congealed into sticky dark puddles. Pushing off the wall, I carefully avoided stepping in any of them as I motioned for Peter to come closer. 

“Let me teach you an old trick of mine for clean up.” He blinked a few times and ambled over to hunker down on his heels next to me. “Use your freezing power on him and the blood puddles.” I put my hand on his arm the same way he did to copy a power from me before he took mine. I could learn without touching, but any excuse I had to touch him, especially now, was good enough for me. 

“Freeze him solid,” Peter said with a smile. I felt the power surge through him, and he smiled wider. “I’ve got much better control. It’s never been this easy with a new power before. Usually it was overkill and instinct for me.” 

“Not a problem that I’ve ever had,” I tell him with a smug grin of my own. That was always one of my advantages over Peter. I knew what I had, and I knew how to use it. No one ever had to worry about me blowing up New York. 

I could feel the cold building up inside of him, and his breath stopped leaving puffs in the cold air the way that mine did. His body temperature was plummeting, lips turning blue when he reached for the corpse and curled his fingers around its ankle. The dead flesh crystallized quickly as the cold raced through the stilled veins until the moisture in the air around it frosted over the pallid skin.

The cold was leaching the warmth from me as well while I tried to learn the power from Peter. It was only fair that he share it with me. I shared with him, but something inside of him had shifted. The lack of guilt about what he’d done changed everything. There was no empathy about that first kill for us to connect with.

“Fuck,” I yelped, pulling away from him, and leaving two of my fingers behind when they snapped off. I watched, wide eyed, as they fell to the cement and shattered. 

“Sylar!” Peter grabbed my arms, and for a moment I could feel more of the cold flow through me before he pulled it back. “Fuck! Jesus! I’m sorry.” 

“It’ll be OK, Peter,” I said from between chattering teeth. I moved away from him, and nodded toward the puddles of blood. “Freeze those too. Then shatter him.” 

“But your hand,” he tried to argue with me, and then turned with a solemn nod to do what I told him. 

I was shivering and then the pain started as my fingers regenerated. I had to bite on my tongue not to cry out again although at this point I was beginning to think no one lived close enough to hear a bomb explode. Forcing bullets out of my body was nothing. I barely felt that anymore. I was accustomed to that pain. When I’d come back from the fire at the Company, I’d been unconscious through most of that until the very end and didn’t feel much of the reconstruction of my body. But this was a sharp localized pain while I was fully conscious, and it made my eyes tear up. 

I flexed my new fingers to make sure they worked although I had no need to do it. Then there was something else, a need and desire that made my mouth water. Peter’s eyes locked with mine, and it was Lydia’s power that kicked in. He got to his feet, standing in the middle of the shards of his victim and what was left of my frozen digits and gave me a wolfish grin. 

“What’s the matter, Sylar?” He tilted his head, and then washed the frozen bits and pieces down into the sewer with the secondary aspect of his new power. “You don’t look so good.” 

“Not like this, Peter.” I’d seen that look before, that aching need to possess something that wasn’t yours. I’d seen it in the mirror, and now I was looking at it in Peter’s eyes. The hunger had him in thrall, and he wanted regeneration from me now. “I’ll share it with you. Hell, we’ll take it from Claire.” 

“Why would I waste my time doing that when you’ve got it right now, Sylar?” I slammed me into the wall, very near where the corpse had been and tightened his telekinesis around my heart. “I’ll kill you for now, take what you want me to have, and then we’ll go home. I mean it’s not as if I’m not already covered in blood, right?” 

“I won’t let you open my skull, Peter.” I brought up my hand, focusing my power to stop him. 

“Go ahead then!” He snarled as blood started to run from his nose as I concentrated on his brain. “Kill me! Then you’ll be alone. You’ll be right back where you started.”

He was right. Of course he was. He could see the possibilities. He knew that I was afraid of an eternity alone, and we both knew that the only way for him to be with me was for him to have regen. I couldn’t kill him. I loved him, and somewhere beyond the hunger he still loved me. 

“Come on,” he purred. My chest hurt, and I could taste blood frothing on my lips as he kept up the pressure. “Do it because you love me, Sylar. No one will be able to stop either of us if you do.” 

“Do it.” Closing my eyes, I stopped fighting him. I gasped for breath as he stalked toward me. Peter brushed his fingers along my cheek, nails scraping at the ever present stubble before he stole a rough kiss from me. I could taste his blood and mine on his lips and tongue. He broke the kiss, and pressed his forehead against mine. 

My father tried to do this to me, and I wouldn’t allow it. I played possum with Samson, letting him think he could have my fucking precious. But I wasn’t pretending with Peter. Blood mingled with the tears running down my face as he sawed through my skin and bone with telekinesis. It burned, and he had to finally rip the top of my skull off to keep me from healing too fast. I’d had to do the same thing with Claire, and if I hadn’t gotten to her, I’d have done it to him all to keep from dying and going to Hell. He let me down gently until my legs were splayed in front of me on the cold cement. I could smell him as he hovered over me; taste my blood and the salt of my tears when I took a breath. 

“I’ll try to be fast,” he mumbled as he leaned closer and the world went black. 

***  
Peter stood next to me on top of the Statue of Liberty. The sky was black as velvet, stars glittering on the water lapping at the Lady’s toes. It was late, and we had a few hours before dawn came. My arm was looped around his shoulders, and he leaned against me to share the warmth. One of his hands dipped beneath the edge of my waistband and I snorted. 

“Your fingers are cold,” I told him, wishing that didn’t trigger a flash of fear. 

“We should probably do something about that then, huh?” He turned me around, so we were facing, hovering a few inches until we were closer to the same height. “Once more around the city, and then we’ll go home and get warm.” He gave me a biting kiss, all teeth and tongues and took off into the sky, his dark coat flapping like wings. 

I licked my lips, shivered and tugged my own coat closer around my throat before taking off into the night to catch up to my little monster. 

THE END


End file.
